


Sadomasochism

by nyagosstar



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-12
Updated: 2012-10-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 04:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy Mustang love his bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sadomasochism

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, this is part of the 30_wounds challenge and like almost every fill I did, the name comes from the prompt. This is possibly the loosest interpretation of a prompt I wrote for the challenges, but it made sense in my head.
> 
> Thanks to sainnis for the beta, and for being willing to take a second and third look at this particular piece.

Roy Mustang loved his bed. He loved laying in it, sleeping in it, having sex in it. He loved breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed. Paperwork was made that much better when completed in bed. When he was Fuhrer, he was seriously considering whether he could get away with conducting the affairs of state from his bed.

The bed he had now was the result of months worth of savings; it was ridiculously expensive and worthy of royalty. Its sturdy, graceful construction made Roy trace the smooth wood of the headboard in affection. He kept the wood polished to a high shine, paying more attention to condition of his bed than he ever had to even his own appearance.

Over the years he’d bought progressively more expensive sheets, ranging from cool linens to decadent silks. The only bribe in his entire career that he’d actually considered taking had been from an ambassador who offered him the purest silk sheets he’d ever seen. They’d been crafted for the Emperor himself and it had taken all of Roy’s determination to turn down the gift.

Roy Mustang also loved Edward Elric. He loved his moods, his energy, his body. He loved the way Ed could make him feel with just a look, could set him ablaze with fire that could only be doused with Ed’s touch. He loved their arguments, their passion, their domesticity. When he was Fuhrer, he wondered if he could get away with naming a day after Edward and if he could live through naming Ed as his official consort. He’d always loved the idea of having an official consort.

Their relationship took care. They often misunderstood each other, Ed’s brain moving too quickly for his mouth and Roy unable to stop keeping secrets, even when they didn’t matter. The argued more often than they were at peace, but had sex more often than they argued, so it tended to work out in the end. Roy put more care and attention into his relationship with Ed than he’d invested in any other relationship in his life because he could no longer imagine what it would be like to draw breath without Ed at his side.

The only time he’d ever thought of killing someone in cold blood since his Ishbal days was when they’d found Ed bloodied and near death at the hands of a terrorist faction who thought Ed would be the best way to bargain. There had never been a moment of such pure rage in Roy’s life as when he saw those responsible in the courtroom on the first day of their hearing. He’d had to be led from the room, Ed’s hand vice-like on his arm and his voice the only thing that kept Roy from setting the whole room on fire.

Roy liked many things, had several hobbies and affections, but he had only two passions: his bed and Edward. And as much as he loved them both, they did not treat each other well.

*

Ed’s startled gasp pulled Roy out of a sound sleep, followed by the thump of metal meeting wood. “Fuck.”

Roy sat up and reached for Ed. “All right?”

Ed shook his head. “Just a dream.” He rotated the wrist of his automail, a small sliver of wood popping out of the joint and falling onto the bed. “Huh, I think I just notched your bedpost.”

Roy gave a weak smile at the terrible joke and wondered if it would seem inconsiderate of Ed’s obvious distress to ask him to fix it with alchemy.

*

“I don’t know why you keep buying white sheets. It’s not like I’m going to suddenly stop leaking machine grease all over your bed.” Ed frowned down at the dark smears across his side of the mattress.

Roy wondered if he should start lining Ed’s side of the bed with plastic. “Couldn’t you, I don’t know, wrap up the joints?”

“Yeah, I guess I could do that. Unless I want to be able to _move them_. Do you know how long that would take every night? And what if there was a fire? I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed, let alone the house.” Ed poked at one of the stains. “Maybe I could try alchemy again. I’m sure the first time was just a fluke.”

Roy died a little inside, thinking of his silk sheets. They had not taken kindly to Ed’s alchemy and instead of being stained but serviceable, they were stained and well, Roy wasn’t sure what they were good for now, or even what they were. Not sheets anymore, that was certain. “Why don’t you just leave them to me?” He wanted to be able to mourn them in private.

*

Ed hit the ground with an uneven thump of mismatched limbs. “Only you would pick a bed so fucking high off the ground. It’s ridiculous.”

Roy smoothed the blankets that had been disturbed by Ed’s departure, luxuriating in the warmth and comfort of his bed. 

“What do you think about taking a couple inches off the legs?”

“Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s saying,” he whispered into the mattress. 

“You’re so weird. Everyone thinks I’m the strange one, but I don’t talk to the fucking bed.”

*

The hardwood chair was uncomfortable in any position Roy tried. His ass was numb and he thought he was probably causing permanent nerve damage in his back just sitting here. Hospitals should know better, but maybe it was their way of ensuring repeat customers.

“You should go home.” 

Roy frowned at Maes, who looked just as tired as Roy felt. “I’ll go when he goes.” He tipped his head to Ed, still unconscious and hooked to more tubes than Roy cared to count.

*

Roy blinked sleep-filled eyes, realizing they’d fallen asleep on the couch. Ed was warm and heavy in his arms, sleeping deeply for the first time in what seemed like weeks. He was uncomfortable, his arm was numb and one of Ed’s buttons was pressed painfully against his shoulder, but Roy was reluctant to try and move Ed, afraid he would wake him. The room was warm enough from the fire and one night on the couch had never killed anyone.

He thought of his bed, lonely in the dark, upstairs and he wondered if he could carry Ed up to bed.

But then Ed shifted, a small sound escaping him and Roy knew he wouldn’t sleep through the process. He ran a hand through Ed’s soft hair, murmured some nonsense that seemed to soothe him and resigned himself to a night apart.

*

The irony of it was lost on no one.

_Flame Alchemist’s home up in smoke._

They’d been at a function and ended up staying late when Roy had the opportunity to speak with one of the generals in the Fuhrer’s inner circle. If they’d left when they were supposed to. If they’d driven straight through town instead of taking the scenic route. If they hadn’t stopped for coffee.

If, if, if.

Ed, old hat now at houses burned to the ground, kept a steady hand on Roy’s back. “I’m so sorry. All of your things, all of our things.” He gripped Roy’s wrist. “Your bed!”

Roy nodded. It had been his second thought when he’d seen the fire trucks and the remains of the house. His first thought had been to thank whoever would listen that Ed hadn’t been in the house. “It was just a bed.” He kissed Ed’s temple and led him forward to try and make sense of the mess.


End file.
